


A Tangled Prayer

by Ruis



Category: Original Work
Genre: Deities, Fantasy, Fire Magic, On the Run, Other, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Trickster Gods, Tricksters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-07-30 16:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20099839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruis/pseuds/Ruis
Summary: Making the web was Raon’s last hope, and a tentative one at best. He knew how to weave the strands – that was easy, he took the instructions directly from the old children’s rhyme. He knew all the rules by heart. And even more importantly, giving him at least a small chance of succeeding, he knew how to break them.





	A Tangled Prayer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roguefaerie (samidha)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samidha/gifts).

Making the web was Raon’s last hope, and a tentative one at best. He knew how to weave the strands – that was easy, he took the instructions directly from the old children’s rhyme. He knew all the rules by heart. And even more importantly, giving him at least a small chance of succeeding, he knew how to break them.

It was considerably more difficult to keep track of all the knots while running. Raon hummed under his breath to help his memory along, but the tangled wool between his fingers was a mess that looked not even close to what he had woven hundreds of times when he’d been younger. Of course, that was in happier times, when he’d had no serious intention of really calling out to the Burning Web, when he’d not been running for his life… He just hoped the mess in his hands would be enough for a deity supposedly not concerned too much with orderliness.

A web, a flame, a penny that’s been found… There was no arguing with the rhyme, but the latter was difficult to obtain and Raon was growing desperate. It should have been easy, and indeed, just a few years ago, it would have been – but of course, these days, any coin lost in the streets of Calwe city, seriously misnamed Jewel of the North, would be snatched up immediately by another destitute inhabitant. 

Raon had some coins left, but none of them had been found, exactly – unless you counted finding them in other people’s pockets. His work of the day had gained him not just pennies. He had gained some silver, a tiny disc of gold and the dogged pursuit of at least a dozen members of the city watch.

In the end, Raon helped himself by cutting the purses of random people, carefully looking away when he gained the impression of something falling. His pursuers were close behind him, gaining ground steadily, and he hated having to backtrack – but he really had no other choice left. He could only hope that the watchmen would deter the crowd a while and at least a single penny would be left in the mud long enough for him to circle the rundown housing block.

He was lucky, relatively speaking. With his fingers entangled in fraying strands of wool – he realized in dismay there was no discernible order to this particular web he’d been creating, and how had that happened with him following all the instructions, anyway? – he had difficulties picking up the tiny piece of copper. Still, he was lucky the coin was there. Unable to use his arms for balance, he almost fell – but luckily, he was able to run on with only a sharp pain in his left foot, a small price to pay. 

Nevertheless, despite all his efforts, he would have been caught. It was sheer luck a beautiful lady Raon had already noticed in passing the first time around decided to cross the street the moment she did, her wide skirts forcing the watchmen to halt their pursuit long enough for Raon to slip unseen into a building entrance. Even more luck that running up the stairs led Raon to an attic that looked as if no one had been using it for a long time.

For a minute, he simply caught his breath before with shaking hands he prepared his prayer. He knew the web was beyond salvaging, but still he slid it off his fingers and, in absence of a proper center, reverently placed the hard-won penny in the slightly off-center place that had the largest lump of knots. Then he took out his last match – lucky he’d still had one left – and unceremoniously set the whole thing on fire. 

The web burned brightly, and Raon made sure the flames had no opportunity to spread to other things in the cluttered attic, guarding the fire with his hands from draft. He did not know what else he expected to happen. Certainly nothing spectacular was going on, just a piece of copper now tarnished black lying in the still hot ashes of what had been a web of prayer. The acrid stench of burnt wool prompted Raon to yank open the window as soon as he was entirely sure the fire had gone out.

Only quiet laughter betrayed the god’s presence. He sat on a coiled rope in the corner of the room, half hidden in the shadows, an unassuming sight. If Raon had not known better, he never would have recognized the strange young man in tattered clothes as anything more than just another random citizen of Calwe, a traveling musician carrying a zither with strings that were inexplicably fitted in a strange criss-cross pattern that would make normal playing impossible. It was only the eyes that gave the stranger away. The beautiful lady in the street, the one Raon had not been able to look away from – the same eyes were looking at him now. 

Grinning, the Burning Web toyed with the blackened penny that Raon was sure there’d been no opportunity to pick up without him noticing. “You don’t actually need my help”, the god said. “But I appreciate the offering all the same. I’ll have to remember your way of finding things.” He laughed, a sound echoed by the penny falling on the zither strings, dissonant but strangely beautiful. “And your way of finding me, of course.”

Helplessly, Raon could only stare when the Burning Web walked up to him. The god was a minstrel, a beautiful lady, a king, a young girl and more, much more, all at once, and they all kissed him gently before merging with the shadows again. “I’m glad you came”, Raon whispered quietly into the empty room. Absentmindedly, he noticed that at his feet, the last remains of the wool had fallen apart and scattered, their pattern – if there ever had been one – irrevocably lost.

Only hours later did he realize his one single piece of gold, the first he had ever owned, was gone as well – but then, what else could he have expected? Laughing and shaking his head slightly, Raon laid down to sleep on a pile of discarded linens. He had silver and a safe place to stay, and a lovely memory to dream of at night. That would have to be enough.


End file.
